Where There's a Will, There's a Way
by Peoplewhoareawesome
Summary: Arthur Kirkland's life changes when his mother dies. He moves to America where he tries to adjust and survive the drama of high school. This includes dealing with his feelings for Alfred Jones who just seems to be perfect. Will he finally get the guy? Or will he have to accept that he can never be good enough for the American.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Alright I'll make this brief. This is a little story from Arthur's point of view about life in America and high school in general. It's USUK my otp :) and so yea. Enjoy!**

Ah yes, introductions. I am Arthur Kirkland. I was born in England and lived in the heart of London. I had a happy life. I had plenty of food, a beautiful house, friends, loving parents, good grades and a smile on my face. I suppose it all changed when I was about thirteen. By that time we had gotten the call on that rainy afternoon that my beloved mother had been killed in a car crash, by that time we had already said goodbye to that cozy yellow house with the chipping paint and the overgrown ivy, by that time we had flown to the country of big egos, hamburgers, football, and apparently bald eagles. America. I wouldn't exactly call it a happy life. We found a small red brick house, shaded by trees in Chevy Chase DC, near downtown though not quite as noisy. The buildings were either made of stone columns or were filled with glowing rectangles that housed offices. It was very different than what I was used to. Though I can't complain. My father got a steady job working for the Washington Post. Sadly this meant he came home quite late and I was alone for many hours. I focused on school, but I was at a public Middle school so grades didn't exactly matter. I found some friends, not that they were the kindest, but at least they would go to the same high school as me. As time passed I became a typical teenager. Something I never thought I would be. It seemed I was constantly angry or annoyed and I was quiet, unless I was insulting someone. My father and I fought more. But I kept my vibrant green eyes and those cursed eyebrows. I am currently a freshman in some odd school called Hetalia Academy.

I looked around at the sleepy looking class. The walls were littered with colorful posters about drugs and HIV, and the fluorescent lights were making the room look more like a science lab than a classroom. It smelled a bit of coffee. The teachers get just as sleepy as us. I looked towards the short old woman in a pink flowery dress pointing to the whiteboard that had some sort of date on it when something happened. Presently I didn't care. I rested my head on my hands and looked up to the clock at the front of the class. 11:45. The class had just started. I groaned quietly and doodled something random on my notebook covered with my neat cursive handwriting. I wondered what would happen if I just got up and left. Left this place behind. Right at that moment there was the sound of a door swinging open forcefully.

"I'm here!" A tall boy said.

This boy's name was Alfred Jones. He was the captain of the football team, and seemed to be loved by everyone. His smile seemed to light up the room and his bright blue eyes seemed to sparkle. He had thin glasses and slightly tanned skin. He looked strong but not necessarily very bright. He had sandy blonde hair that stuck up in the front. His clothes consisted of tight blue jeans, a white "I heart NY" shirt and a brown bomber jacket which he wore everywhere. Good God he was attractive. I hated him for being so perfect.

"Alfred you're late!" The teacher announced shrilly. "Again..." she added under her breath, annoyed.

Alfred shrugged and sat down in his usual seat right in front of me. I rolled my eyes and attempted to pay attention. The rest of the class was simply boring facts about the revolutionary war where Alfred would scream, "Take that Britain!" Whenever she mentioned America winning a battle. This only made me more frustrated with him. Finally the bell rang. I quickly gathered up my books and rushed out the door of the classroom into the sea of students. Hetalia Academy is an international school and there are people from probably every country here. I arrived at my locker and fumbled with the silver lock as I scowled at nothing in particular. Suddenly I heard someone laughing behind me.

"Ohonohonohon.." Oh bloody hell no. Bloody Françis Bonnefoy. If there was anyone I loathed more in this world than Alfred it was him. I turned to face him. His eyes were a michievious blue and he had a thin smirk on his face. Françis had shoulder length blonde hair which he constantly boasted about, stubble on his chin and a fashionable button-down purple shirt with black skinny jeans.

"Bonjour Arthur. Ça va?" He said cooly leaning up against the locker to my right with his arms crossed.

"Awful now that you're here." I replied pulling out my lunch and slamming the locker door. Françis laughed and we started walking down to the cafeteria.

"I see someone is having a bad day." He said teasingly with that incredibly thick French accent.

I scowled at him. "It was just last period. Alfred was being a pain in the arse." Francis laughed again.

"Mon ami do you realize how much you talk about monsieur Alfred?" I looked taken aback.

"W-whot the bloody hell do you mean? I do not talk about him! Well, not that much. He's a git and he's loud and.." I felt my whole body warm up. Especially my cheeks. Oh hell no.

More laughter. "You are blushing mon cheri." Françis gave me a wicked smile and I looked away, avoiding his gaze. Now I just knew my cheeks were bright red.

The rest of the way down to the cafeteria was Françis giving me relationship advice as I kept mumbling "git" and "wanker" and "bloody frog". But I was listening attentively. We arrived at our usual lunch table which consisted of Antonio, Feliciano, Ludwig, Kiku, Gilbert, Lovino, and Matthew. Before I could even sit down, Françis has waved his hand signaling he wanted everyone's attention.

"Mon amis, I have an announcement to make!" The table was silent. All eyes turned to Françis I looked at him confused. "Our Arthur here has fallen madly in love with the American boy Alfred Jones!" Gilbert whistled and others cheered as I turned to Françis and poured my milk on his head and sat down like nothing had happened. There was a moment's silence and then everyone burst out laughing.

"Do you know how much this shirt costs?!" He screamed.

I smirked and shrugged. "I don't give a fuck."

**A/N: I apologize for the language but it is rated M. There will not be smut but there will be fluff! I also apologize for the spelling/grammar mistakes I probably made. I promise it will improve! Please review!**

**-Peoplewhoareawesome :P**


	2. Thoughts

**Sorry this chapter is so late! I had written it but my computer shut down and it erased the entire thing. Ya I'm kinda pissed. Ah well. This next chapter will talk a little more about Arthur's daily life. Poor kid. Enjoy!**

I sighed as I got my French test professor stared at me with a look of disappointment in his eyes as he wrote down a red 76 at the top of my paper. I tried to cover it from my fellow classmates as I walked back to my seat. I heard the other students in the class comparing answers. Most had gotten high scores. After all, it had been an easy test. But who cares about French anyway? It's a stupid language. I sullenly walked back to my seat and pulled out my beloved Shakespeare book out from under my desk and tried to forget about my worries. I listened to the soft chatter of the students. It calmed me. A bit like how rain calms you when you are trying to sleep. "Just forget your worries Arthur. Don't think about that test or that homework you didn't do or that C you have in science." I tried telling myself. The bell rang.

I held my books close to me as if they were giving me comfort as I attempted to navigate my way through the sea of students looking for the shinny wooden of my science class. The lectures were dull and consisted only of a few worksheets on velocity that I paid no attention to. I found myself zoning out once again. I looked outside at the blazing sun. I had to squint my eyes. Oh how I hated the sun. It didn't make me feel all fuzzy inside as it was described in countless songs and books. Instead I found salvation in the rain. I missed the rain in London. No constant sun burning down on you, just the peaceful cool rain. The rain makes it easier to conceal yourself. It's easier to hide, to fade into the dark clouds and the smell. The beautiful freshness of it all. That's what I missed. The bell rang.

I rushed down the many flights of stairs to the locker room and got changed into my ugly navy blue and gold gym uniforms. We started to run laps around the gym. I ran alone as usual, though running seems much harder when you're alone. i smiled remembering the days in elementary school when I would finish in almost first place during cross-country. I missed the way I was cheered on by all those smiling faces. I missed the bright wide eyes of the first graders who would say, "Daddy, I hope I can run like that when I grow up!" I suppose that has also changed about me as well. I'm not very good at running at all now. I hoped the weather would be nice this afternoon for cross-country practice. Even if I wasn't any good, another excuse to see Alfred's beaming face as he crosses the finish line (in first place of course) was good enough for me. I was used to failure anyways. The bell rang.

Finally. The lsat class before lunch; Art. Art was when I could actually zone off and it would be okay. All the people in my class did was talk anyway so I could finally not think about anything and express myself through drawing. Not words. Because apparently I wasn't very good at that. Hmm, expression. That is yet another thing about me that has changed. I used to be the person who always wore nice khakis and a button-down shirt. I always looked nice and held myself with confidence. After I moved, I now wear ripped black jeans, a studded belt, and usually some sort of band t-shirt. I started to play the electric guitar and my drawing skills improved considerably. I am often teased about my attire, Though I'll never do anything to change it. It's who I am now whether I like it or not. As you can see, I am struggling a bit with personality issues. The bell rang.

Thank the lord for lunch. I am starving. Well, I always am. I stared around the cafeteria looking for someone in particular. Suddenly I spotted a head of soft blonde hair laughing with his usual twinkling eyes. Alfred. I melted as I looked at him longingly. It broke my heart just a little bit that he barely knew me. That git. He's just too popular to notice. I'm surprised he can even _see _past his ego. I was jealous. Jealous of his popularity, his confidence, his kindness, his body, how athletic he was, but mostly the fact that he was loved by everyone. I didn't need everyone to love me, just him would be enough.

Snapping out of my trance, I looked over at my table, where everyone, including Matthew was laughing at me. They were watching me stare at Alfred. I blushed and turned to walk out of the cafeteria. I wasn't in the mood for more mocking comments about me and Al. I mean Alfred. I stared angrily at the ground as I walked down the hallway. It was deserted. Or so I thought.

**A/N: OOOooo cliff hanger! Well, sort of. Who is in the hallway with Arthur? How will Arthur deal with his friends and Alfred? And more importantly, how will he deal with his own thought? Find out next week on ****_Where There's a Will, There's a Way!_**** [Review please :) ]**

**-Peoplewhoareawesome :P**


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